


PB&J Tastes A Lot Like Hope

by casgirlsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Castiel (Supernatural), Cas hates jam, Episode: s13e17 The Thing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, There’s some humor I swear there is, cas is angry but he still cares cause he can’t help it, this is honestly pre sabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casgirlsam/pseuds/casgirlsam
Summary: Sam would have been relieved to hear Gabriel say anything, but he’s especially relieved to hear his name be said in a voice he thought he’d never hear again.—————————In which Sam blames himself for basically everything that’s been going wrong and Cas angrily makes sandwiches.





	PB&J Tastes A Lot Like Hope

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR 13x17 THE THING
> 
> Also be gentle. Haven’t posted a fic in over 10 years. I’m basically a renewed fanfic virgin.

Gabriel’s first word spoken since being rescued from Asmodeus is Sam’s name.

They were in what was now Gabriel’s room, the archangel sat on the edge of the bed, Sam knelt in front of him gently changing his bandages on his side. It was proving to be a slow-going process as Sam made sure to go carefully and narrate everything he did so as not to startle Gabriel.

_This isn’t right,_ Sam thought bitterly to himself. _He shouldn’t be this timid. He shouldn’t be bleeding._

Before Sam could continue what was quickly becoming mental flagellation, there was a gentle knock. Gabriel flinched harshly, making Sam accidentally push too hard on the clean bandage. Which then caused Gabriel to groan.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam apologized, hand gently moving down Gabriel’s side to the bed. “It’s just Cas. Is that ok?”

He waited patiently as Gabriel’s eyes went from scared to acceptance and consent. Finally, he nodded carefully.

“Yeah,” Sam called out.

Cas came in, plates in hand. Sam stood in time to have Cas thrust a plate in Sam’s hands, glaring. “You need to eat.” he declared, his voice in the tone that meant there was to be no arguments.

Sam mumbled a “Thanks,” and looked at the contents of the plate. PB&J. He rolled his eyes. Of course. _It’s probably the only thing Cas knows how to make._ Sliced diagonally, too. He picked up a sandwich half and was surprised that it was the homemade jam Sam had picked up a few months ago.

Cas had made his opinions known when Sam had shown him the basket of jars. Cas’s face had scrunched up in disgust as he said he hated making sandwiches with jam because “Fruit bits do not spread, Sam. It’s _fruit_.”

Sam smiled, knowing that Cas may be pissed off and acting like an angel-on-a-mission, but he still took time to show he cared. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. _It’s the little things._ He sighed. Sam wasn’t always good at the little things. He was better at being the emotional rock and grand gestures. Not so much everyday things like sandwiches.

Cas knelt down in front of Gabriel, proffering the second sandwich. “It’s the sweetest thing I could find in the kitchen,” he said, his tone much gentler than what he used with Sam just now. Cas smiled fondly. “Dean ate all mini pies I had bought.”

Sam huffed out a laugh at that. He looked at Gabriel, and he could have sworn he saw the smallest of smiles.

  
“Cas, man, I appreciate the food but you don’t have to take care of me.”

Cas stood slowly, careful not to startle his brother, and fixed Sam with the bitchiest look on his face. _God damn it, he really is a Winchester._

“Oh really? Is that why you have bags under eyes, an empty stomach, and your brother in the apocalypse world with someone who can’t be trusted? Because you can take care of yourself?”

Sam had opened his mouth once or twice to retort, but Cas was fixing him with such an angry glare, he thought better of it.

After what seemed like years of being stared down, Cas seemed satisfied with Sam’s silence and started to storm out of the room. “I’ll be back with glasses of milk.” he growled as he left.

Sam stood there, shocked, eyes fixed on the door Cas had the presence of mind to close gently. Cas had never been this angry with him before. _Maybe I should have tried harder to stop Dean. Maybe I should have called Cas sooner. Maybe—_

“Sam,” came a dry-sounding croak from the bed.

Sam whipped his head over to Gabriel, his honey-whiskey eyes shining close to the same humorous light Sam remembered from all those years ago.

It was a relief to hear Gabriel say his name; say it in a way that felt like he remembered Sam. He wasn’t sure when Ketch had dragged Gabriel in if the look of terror was the usual look supernatural creatures got when forced to help them or because he couldn’t remember them.

It was a relief to see the joking, mischievous light in his eyes slowly coming back. He was so relieved, he felt tears starting to fill his own eyes.

This is how Gabriel, the fun loving archangel should be. Sam felt an overwhelming need to hug him and never let go until the touch-starved angel remembered what being cared for was like.

He shook his head free of that thought as he knelt back down, sitting the plate down on the bed. For the first time in a long while, Sam felt hopeful.

He swallowed his relief down and smiled. “Yeah, Gabriel?”

Gabriel smirked as much as he could with the condition his mouth was in as he said, “When did my little brother become such a sarcastic little shit?”


End file.
